


Just Another Day

by NyxEclipse



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character Death(s), people die when they are killed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEclipse/pseuds/NyxEclipse
Summary: With the gods trying to obliterate humanity every other week, there would no doubt be many battles fought. This is merely just one of them; just another day in the country of Uruk.





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> Like usual, my half assed research and knowledge resulted in this mess of a work.

 

“Let go of me mongrel.”

The king of Uruk tries to pull out of Merlin’s grasp, but the other is holding on far too tightly.

“Gil-“

“I have things to do. Do not waste my time any further.”

Knowing the stubborn king, Merlin reluctantly lets go. The other man stumbles a little at the sudden loss of contact but quickly rightens himself. With a last glance at the Magus of Flowers, Gilgamesh hurries off to the location of the wall that has been breached by monsters, a handful of guards and couriers quickly surrounding their king to provide reports.

Merlin has to resist the urge to coddle the King of Uruk every time. If there is one thing that Gilgamesh hates about him, it would have to be his mothering tendencies. The blond likes his independence and will rarely, if ever, actively seek help from anyone else, even if said person was his own servant. Maybe his time with a certain King of Knights had influenced him too much. She would always come to him for help and advice and he had given it readily, too readily perhaps. His current king certainly did not appreciate it.

It made him love the blond all the more.

Clenching his fists in frustration, Merlin reviewed the catastrophic turn of events that occurred this morning. They were not as off guard as the gods had been hoping for. The lull in monster activity for the past two weeks had set off warning bells in all of them. It had been the calm before the storm and Gilgamesh was right to have constantly kept them all on edge. When the attack came, they had been as ready as ever. Repelling the monsters with expertise that only came from countless experience, it had looked like just another easy victory for them.

Things went all wrong in an instant.

He heard it immediately; the terrified screams of helpless citizens were distant yet prominent. Gilgamesh was even faster than him with how his head whipped around before abruptly rushing off in the direction of the screams. They were coming from the east side of the wall, an area that had never seen much fighting before due to its extra thickness and absolute vigilance arising from a tight patrolling schedule Any attacks on it so far had been a crushing victory for them and thus, a terrible waste of resources for the enemy. Even the gods knew this, so why did they suddenly decide to do so?

He would later find out that a soldier had been secretly weakening the wall defences after being promised by the gods that he and his family would be spared from the purging of humanity. It was all the monsters needed to breach the wall.

Gilgamesh would then merely banish the man, but Merlin secretly wanted to decapitate the human for causing so much hurt to his master.

Staring grief stricken at the spots of red Gilgamesh leaves behind as he walks, the magus feels at a lost.

How long more would this have to continue?

-/-/-

A good while after his mini argument with the King of Uruk, Merlin makes his way to the east side of Uruk to survey the situation and hopefully perform some damage control. The sight that greets him is grim. Rows of once orderly houses and structures have been reduced to little more than rubble and the thick smell of smoke permeates the air. Its source is from a few still burning houses and the rows of funeral pyres. Moving on from the sombre scene of countless dead burning, he has to watch his step for the numerous craters and debris lining the ground lest he trip and fall in an undignified manner. The faint sound of sobbing fades to the background as he steps closer to the edge of the city.

Ahead of him is a group of soldiers moving corpses to be cremated. While the human ones are easy enough to move, the carcass of a hulking red beast with a yellow mane and tail is giving them quite a bit of trouble.

“Let me handle that.”

As a servant of Gilgamesh, it was his duty to help the common people too no?

“Ah! Court Magus, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself with such trivial matters. “

“No worries! I’m sure Gil won’t mind me giving his people a hand.”

The soldiers look a little flustered upon his arrival and shift somewhat nervously at his casual addressal of their king. With well practiced ease, he gestures at the dead beast. Bright red flames spring up at once and lick hungrily at the mass. The huge remains quickly burns to nothing leaving behind only the faintest smudges of ash. He notices the younger soldiers stare at him in a rather worshipful manner at his casual display of magic and chuckles in amusement.

“Leave the monster corpses to me. Tend to our people who deserve more respect than just being burnt so thoughtlessly by the roadside.”

Giving him solutes of respect, the soldiers hurry off to continue their duties. One even does a full bow which is a pleasant surprise. The innocent gesture lifts his weary spirits somewhat as the still twitching remains of a blue horned beast goes up in flames. Continuing down the dirt path that occasionally sports blood splatters, he steels himself for more gristly sights.

-/-/-

The white haired magus finds Gilgamesh crouching near a collapsed house.

“Gil, how unkingly of you-“

The joke dies on his lips.

There is a sizeable pool of blood surrounding Gilgamesh and for an irrational moment, Merlin wants to fly over, scoop the blond into his arms and shield him from the world.

Then rational thought takes over and he realises that the king’s clothes look relatively blood free. The blood isn’t his. His king hasn’t gotten further hurt. But, whose blood is it then?

“Br-big brother…”

The weak voice of a young girl calls out.

Upon walking closer to the blond, the Magus of Flowers finally notices the young girl that had been blocked from his line of sight earlier. She frankly looks close to death. Blood runs down her face in steady streams, dripping to contribute to the blood puddle Gilgamesh is standing in. Her once bright blonde hair glistens with red blood and she looks delirious from pain with how her eyes do not quite focus. The lower half of her body is completely covered with the remains of a building and he can only imagine its crushed state at the moment.

“It…hurts!”

“Hush, young one.”

In a surprisingly tender gesture, Gilgamesh wipes the budding tears from her eyes and grips her bloody hand. He looks resolutely at her face, unheeding of the blood that must be staining his golden shoes.

“Mum…dad- “a violent cough that brings up splatters of blood interrupts her. “Where?”

To the side, Merlin spots couple. While the man is staring face up with unseeing eyes, all that can be seen of his wife is a single bloody hand and locks of bright blonde hair that peek out beneath rubble. The man especially makes a horrific sight with how his innards are strewn around in a sloppy manner which are being eyed by weary crows.

…he supposed he just found the answer to her question.

Not too far from them lies young male with bright blond hair. From the way several spikes pierce his body, he must have died a terribly slow and agonising death as he eventually bled out. From the similar shade of hair, he could easily imagine the King of Uruk in his place, exhausted from countless onslaughts against his country, helpless to defend as countless spikes and beasts mauled his body-

He finally understands the reason for the young girl’s familiar way of speech with his master.

“I’ll bring you to them soon.”

It is painful to watch as Gilgamesh cups her face and slowly reaches towards her neck. They both know that she is beyond saving. The king might be a harsh ruler, but his cruelty is never without reason; the number of people who have died under his rule is by no means small. This however, is different. This was an unnamed girl whose name he would never know lest he asked and broke the illusion. But to leave her alive would be even more cruel. Even if she did heal, she would have to live the rest of her life as a cripple in this harsh world alone without family.

And if she didn’t, what awaited her was a slow and torturous death.

The Wise King’s face is unreadable as his right hand finally finds its destination. It might have been his imagination, but Merlin swears for a second he sees the usually unflappable king tremble.

And thus, the nameless blond girl dies in the loving embrace of her ‘brother’, her neck swiftly broken in an instant.

“Gil…”

He doesn’t know what to say. What could he possible say? While he struggles to come up with a proper way to comfort the no doubt upset king, Gilgamesh rises to his feet before he can do so. The girl slumps to the ground limply to join her family in their unseeing state of death. Without sparing the magus a glance, he addresses the men stationed nearby.

“Men! There are more corpses here!”

Several soldiers hurry over to shift away rocks and bricks to retrieve the corpses of the family.

“Reports! I need more of them! You, how many dead do we have?”

“The casualty count is over five thousand and rising rapidly my king.”

Merlin is secretly stunned by the number. That would make this battle the one with the highest casualty counts so far. If the King of Uruk is shaken by the number, he does not show it. Instead, he merely asks for more reports like usual and gathers several council members to figure out what to do with the hundreds of now homeless survivors. The white haired mage realises that they would probably not be able to talk until late at night.

Sighing, he watches as the young girl is finally extracted from the ruins of her house. As expected, her lower body is nothing more than a bloody mess. Closing his eyes, he walks away from the area.

He had promised to take care of all the dead beasts.

-/-/-

The sky is dark before Merlin is done ridding the streets of all the monster corpses. Combing his hand through his long locks, he wonders where his king is right now. Knowing him, he would probably still be with his men in an attempt to sort out logistics. With the scale of destruction that occurred today, it would most likely take at least a week before everything got sorted out.

Trudging tiredly through the empty halls of the palace, he encounters Siduri who has a pensive look on her face. The sight of the capable woman sends a flash jealousy through him. As Gilgamesh’s right hand man, she was almost always around the King of Uruk. Whether it was to give him advice or simply help him process reports and paperwork, the amount of time she got to spend with his master was to be envied. He knows his jealousy is unfounded and petty. Gilgamesh has never once looked at her with any sort romantic interest. In fact, he seems to overlook her beauty altogether in favour of using her intellect.

Still, he can’t help himself but feel such a way.

“It’s you Merlin.”

Their time working together has caused her to call him by his actual name rather than titles. She might be putting on a strong front, but the Magus of Flowers can hear the subtle weariness in her voice. The tragedy from this afternoon has been hard on all of them and Siduri is no exception.  

“King Gilgamesh has just retried to his room, not like I forced him or anything.”

She smiles brightly at his raised eyebrows.

“He asked me to call you over whenever I find you. I’m sure the two of you have plenty to discuss.”

Nodding his head politely, the Magus of Flowers watches as Siduri bustles off with several tablets nestled snugly in her arms. Loathe as he was to admit, her presence is irreplaceable to Uruk and the council of state affairs would no doubt be far less efficient without her.

Pushing any further thoughts of the busy woman out of his mind, Merlin approaches the doors to the king’s private chambers somewhat hesitantly. After what occurred in the afternoon, he wonders what would be appropriate to say. Mentally preparing himself for all the possible conversations that could occur, he warily eases open the gold glided doors.

The same sight greets him like usual. The king’s room is both spacious and luxurious with bookshelves containing numerous books lining the four walls. Some of them house display cases where varying treasures are displayed. They range from incredibly ornate to elegant simplicity, their sheer volume in number being the most impressive feat. To the far end is a balcony which overlooks the entire country and the river Euphrates. The night scene from there is truly breath taking, especially when he stood there for hours on end with his king in peaceful tranquil silence. Centred in the middle of the room is a large four poster bed with scarlet drapes. Fine red silk and plump cushions adorn the bed where the King of Uruk currently lies.

Cautiously, he approaches the slumbering king in an attempt not to wake him. But perhaps he was never asleep in the first place, for serpentine red eyes flick open once the mage is near. A beat of silence passes before Merlin takes the initiative to ask a question.

“Are you hurt?”

Gilgamesh huffs as if insulted and sits up. Merlin notes the way his face twists a little as though in pain.

“Insufferable mage. Your coddling is not appreciated unlike the previous king you served. It would do you well to remember that fact.”

Ignoring the slight insult at the first king he served, Merlin moves to sit next to the blond. Scanning the king, he quickly identifies the possible site of injury. His left hand which normally holds his Magical Tomb is wrapped sloppily in bandages that already shows spots of red. Upon realising what the Magus of Flowers is staring at, Gilgamesh hastily tries to shift it out of sight. Merlin proves too fast for him however, and he finds his arm being trapped in a firm grip. The King of Uruk opens his mouth as though to say something but ultimately does not. He does not meet Merlin’s gaze and simply stares at the white sheets instead, his expression stony and unreadable.

“…”

There is a thick tension in the air. One wants to chide the other for negligence of his own health while the other would no doubt stubbornly refute the accusation.

Eventually, Merlin forgoes any prepared speeches about the afternoon's events and simply undoes the soiled bandages.

He hisses sharply at the ugly wound on Gilgamesh's palm.

While it is not deep enough to pass through to the other side, the gash is still rather deep and must have sliced through several muscles at the very least. In fact, blood still seeps sluggishly from the ragged edges, a testament to how little heed the king has paid it. He can barely imagine how much pain the wound must have caused him. The blond’s mouth is pressed into a thin line and Merlin can feel faint tremors as he presses on the wound to check for any poison. He should have been more observant. He should have realised how Gilgamesh only used one hand to kill the girl.

He should have held on tighter this morning.

“…I would have asked you to heal me eventually.” Gilgamesh murmurs under his breath.

The white haired male shakes his head. The trip to the underworld might have mellowed the man into the wise ruler he is now, but that overwhelming arrogance and pride had clearly not changed in the slightest.

Would that be his downfall? This unwillingness to ask or rely on others for help?

“Do not misunderstand mongrel. Your abilities were needed elsewhere. This king merely had his priorities straight.”

What can he say to that? Those words hold truth in them. The reconstruction of the destroyed east side would take a lot longer if Gilgamesh was not there to help with logistics and construction while Merlin helped clear the area of dead monsters in a swift yet efficient manner.

Gingerly, the Magus of Flowers lifts the injured palm to eye level. A faint breeze starts and flower petals scatter. The blond’s palm glows faintly as a soothing light caresses it. The gash begins to heal steadily till it is mostly closed, leaving behind a neat red line. It is still very much visible and liable to reopening if treated roughly, but it would have to suffice for now. Sometimes, Merlin really hates the limitations of being a servant. If it were his mortal body here, such a gash would have been healed with laughable ease. Not even that dead girl from the afternoon would have posed too large an issue.

“Hmph, a decent job as usual. You may leave now magus.”

Having expected to be chased from the room, Merlin had already begun standing before the king uttered the words. He gently smooths out his robes which were slightly crumpled from his sitting position before heading towards the door. Gilgamesh would no doubt appreciate his lack of rebuttal and could probably use some time in solitude to review the day’s events. A small part of him does long to stay behind with his king however. It has been so long since the two of them shared some private time together.

His fingers barely brush the surface of the golden doors before a voice rings out.

“Wait.”

Surprised, he turns around to face his master.

Gilgamesh does not elaborate and merely pats the empty space on the bed beside him. His expression might be as haughty as ever, but it is barely even noticed by the white haired mage. Merlin hurries over in excitement, heart hammering in his chest. Usually it is he himself who has to initiate any form of intimacy between them. For Gilgamesh to do so for once without any prompting is a rare occasion indeed. Whatever it was that caused his sudden change in heart, the magus silently thanks it.

Merlin shrugs off his cloak leaving his black undershirt and drapes it over a nearby chair. He then joins the relaxing blond who is watching him with a lazy gaze. The pristine white sheets are soft beneath his fingers and he likes to imagine them in his master’s hair instead. The two lock eyes for a long moment before Gilgamesh breaks contact.

“Goodnight, mongrel.”

The Magus of Flowers notes how insult lacks its usual bite.

Gilgamesh turns his body away from Merlin, leaving him to stare at his lightly muscled back. Unsatisfied, the Magus of Flowers reaches out and flips the other around in a bold move. Before the blond can process what is being done to him, the white haired mage has already locked him into a tight embrace while pressing the other’s face into his black covered chest. For a long fearful moment, Merlin waits for Gilgamesh to pull away. But apart from freezing up initially, the blond eventually allows his body to go lax. Hesitant arms snake around his waist as the king clumsily tries to return the hug.

Merlin is sure a wide smile must be threatening to split his face as he hugs the other a little tighter and receives no protest. Although, for the King of Uruk to be so open to skin contact today…the day’s events must have really taken their toll on his mind.

Using one hand to reach for the scarlet and gold blankets, he covers the both of them with it. Gilgamesh doesn’t even stir at the movement and seems content to simply lie in the warmth of their embrace, face to chest in a comfortingly intimate position. This would be a treasured memory for the future, the Magus of Flowers decides as he wraps them in snugly.

Tomorrow the sun would rise again and people would go about their daily routine.

In the end, it was just another day in the country of Uruk.

Nothing more, nothing less.

.

.

.

No. Not to him.

Today was not just another day.

Any day where he got to spend time with Gilgamesh was a special day. Who knew how much time they had left? Uruk would not hold out forever against the gods and it was all fated to end once the people from the future arrived.

But for now, the present was all that mattered.

Arranging his arms over the other in a protective manner, Merlin closes his eyes and joins his king in slumber.


End file.
